


Saint Bernard

by Matthewovov



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: ADHD, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Cigarettes, Dadza, Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Emotional Hurt, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Im tired, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), My First Fanfic, No Romance, No Smut, No shipping, Philzaminecraft - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sensory Overload, Smoking, Underage Smoking, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Will add more tags as I go along, enjoy, help me, they're minors, tommyinnt centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28847142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matthewovov/pseuds/Matthewovov
Summary: Tommy gets moved from foster home to foster home, and doesn't know how to cope.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	Saint Bernard

Tommy slouched on his open window, one leg swung over the ledge, the other rested close to his chest. His head rested against the sharp corner, his eyes half lidded and lined with deep-set bags. He adjusted himself to sit upright. The boy dug around in his left shoe, feeling around for his lighter. When his fingers pushed up against the cool plastic, he gently picked it out, flicking on the safety. He brought the flame to his lips, where a Marlboro Red rested. He brought his other hand to shield the flame from the wind, then lit it. As he put the lighter back in his shoe, he took a long drag, the smoke went down smoothly, he now found the burn that sat in the back of his throat comforting and warm. He held the murky smoke in his lungs before he blew it out into the frigid night air.   
It was his first night with the new family he was thrown with, hardly any words were exchanged with the man who took him in. The man obviously attempted a conversation, but Tommy didn’t even attempt to make eye contact. He arrived at the house around 9 in the afternoon, and immediately went to the room he was given. He didn’t know much about the family besides he was a single dad, with two other boys. He didn’t bother to get anymore information on them, it’s not like he cared. The house was tiny, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was a soft yellow on the outside, with a white trim. It had a wooden fence that was poorly painted. Tommy could see the age stains, and how it chipped away at the pain. It was cozy and welcoming. He hated it. He figured he wasn’t staying for long, he never did. He had already made a plan to run. It was amateurish and still needed work on the finer details, but it would make do for now. 

The boy exhaled the last of the Marlboro before he snuffed it out, then flicked it out of his window, down into the bushes below. He swung his legs over the sill, firmly planting his feet on the wooden floors. He brushed the leftover ash out of the window before closing it. He reached up, pulling on the wire that turned on his fan and then squirted some cologne into the air, hoping to mask the smell of smoke. He breathed a long, airy sigh, reaching behind his head and grabbed the scruff of his shirt, pulling it over his head and onto the floor. He turned to the mirror that was on the dresser and stared at his bare chest. Tommy was a tall, lanky boy. His collar bones seemed to jab out of his pale skin, his ribs protruded against his gaunt chest. He gently rested the pads of his fingers against his skin. A small frown assembled on his face, a look of displeasure. As he was examining his body, Tommy heard a pair of sock-footed footsteps pattering against the cold wood down his hallway.  
He swallowed hard, grabbing his shirt off the ground and sloppily putting it back over his head. He grabbed the pack of Marlboro Reds, shoving it to the bottom of the army jacket that was crammed under his bed. He kicked off his shoes next to the jacket and he slid into the bed, pulling the heavy quilt over his body. The footsteps stopped at the heel of his door. The air felt still, he could taste the staleness of it. All Tommy could hear was his own breathing. He forced his eyelids shut, and quieted his breathing. After what felt like hours, he finally heard the footsteps start again, and get quieter and farther from his room. He felt himself recline. His small frame sunk into the pliable mattress. After about five minutes of sitting still, Tommy rolled onto his back, and ogled the ceiling. He studied the groves and cracks, trying to distract himself. This was going to be a long few weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii uhhhh this is my first work I have ever done >:D if u like it please say so!! Comments and critism is highly apperciated, i'll try to update pretty frequently!


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